Me Aaaaaaaand, Mister– Mister Jones, Mister Jones, Mister Jones…

What on earth has Anthony Jones been doing since September 10th, 2009? It was on that day that Mr. Jones –known by his more hip sobriquet “Van”– suddenly found himself shuffling flat-footed to the unemployment line. How was this man, so unceremoniously dumped by Barack Obama, going to pay his rent? How was he going to find sustenance? This brave, eloquent, iconic figure of Hope and Change, found instead (to his utter desolation) that it was really easy to Change the Hope in Barack Obama’s new America.

For a man dedicated to the environment, Van Jones found rather ironically and abruptly about how it feels to become yesterday’s trash.

Remember Van? One of Barack’s posse? He’s one of those left-wing geniuses that was born in 1968, who bathed himself in Star Wars wierdness as an adolescent, morphed his obsession with all things George Lucas into a bizarre amalgam of Kennedy fetishism and San Fran patchouli oil. Along the way, he armed himself with a veritable swiss-army knife of marketable skills that included, well… a “communications” degree. I think.

As it turns out, I needn’t have worried about Van’s abrupt dispatch to the provinces. As I say, his resume is as thick as the instructions to From 1040, and about as incomprehensible: Just the sort of thing leftist authoritarians love.

In the late summer of 2009, After Mr. Jones exposure as an anti-Semite and 9/11 Truther wack-job, President Obama relieved Van of his undoubtedly strenuous duties as his “Green Jobs Czar”. As I say, I needn’t have worried about him: Van was hired straight away, not only by the George Soros harem over at the Center for American Progress, but (of course, what else) is also now an “adjunct professor of Black Studies” at Princeton, and a visiting lecturer at Yale.

As I say, Mr. Jones’ work history is a leftist dream of acronyms, unconnected nouns, “campaigns” and “networks”. In his mere and short 42 years upon this mortal coil, Mr. Jones has started, worked for, been involved with, or directed the following programs, movements, NGO’s, or car-wash-‘n-cookie-drives:

Now, when most folks are unemployed, as Mr. Jones suddenly was that dark day in September, their resume might mention something about having been a manager at Blockbuster Video, or maybe they spent a year or two clerking at Smith’s Ace Hardware. Not Van. Nope, after earning his degree, at the tender age of 23, Jones went right out and started a Revolutionary Movement. It clearly worked quite well, for he went from harassing police officers in Oakland, and, in ten short years, Van had the ear of the President of the United States. Not bad work if you can get it.

Well, Mr. Jones, ten years on, is evidently tiring of his earlier Revolutionary Movement, and has moved onto another Revolutionary Movement: the “American Dream Movement”. One wonders if he has time for the “Bowel Movement”.

The American Dream Movement, organized and spearheaded by Van “Han Solo” Jones, is, as he describes in his very-recent dispatch to the Huffington Post (in soaring American poesy, a veritable Norman Vincent Peale appeal) is a call to “our Tea Party Moment–in a positive sense”.

And what is the Positive Tea Party Moment that Van Jones cattle-prods the leftist masses toward? He wants all the suckling pigs at the public trough to bray and stamp this Saturday, at every State Capitol, in the hopes that their bawling and crying will so move the taxpayers to verily crack open their checkbooks, and fund their platinum-plated pension and benefit packages full to overflowing one last time. After all, the folks that populate the warrens of the inter-laced University-Government-Media Complex deserve pensions and benefits that working stiffs simply do not. Julia Butterfly Hill deserves it.

I don’t know how to tell Van Jones this, but his whole life is a fantasy crock: From his childish worshiping of R2D2, to his vaporous appeals to Jewish 9/11 conspiracies, to his nether-world existence of endless academic blathering and chit-chat, Van Jones has lived a life that only a professional gadfly and student in the US could live.

Worse still, the man has never rubbed elbows with anyone that’s every hung a sheet of drywall, poured concrete over rebar in a footing trench, wire-welded a boat frame, ground a set of rotors, or done a grocery-store re-set. And America senses this, and that’s why they are FURIOUS with the Madison Mob that he hopes to appropriate and infect the rest of America with. Van Jones’ America only exists on paper, and real, breathing, work-dirty Americans are fed up with supporting those that can’t do diddly-squat but talk about doing diddly squat.

Reading his little article in the now AOL-run HuffingtonPuffington Post is evidence of this. He talks nauseatingly about the “American Dream”, as if the American Dream was to help yourself to your neighbor’s property, piddle all over it, and complain later about the smell:

But Wisconsin’s governor recently handed out massive corporate tax breaks, reducing the state’s revenues. That move greatly added to the problem he now wants to fix by attacking essential services with a meat axe. A slew of GOP governors in places like Ohio are gearing up to take similar approaches.

If a foreign power conspired to inflict this much damage on America’s first responders and essential infrastructure, we would see it as an act of war.

Uh-huh. Sure. America’s first responders wouldn’t have been able to be America’s Tenth Responders in Madison the last week. They all were calling in sick, and protesting, according to Mr. Jones. In his world, the protesters in Wisconsin were the ill-treated and firemen and police officers (the same ones, we should presume, he cut his activist teeth suing and throwing out of jobs in San Fransisco earlier in the decade) not unionized educrats, bussed in from all over the country.

No, and we will see a veritable panoply, a “rainbow” of Americans, joining Mr. Jones Latest Movement as they dance the leftist jig of iron-fisted statism in front of all 50 (or, maybe it’s 57) state capitols:

Van Jones has never held a real job. Neither has Barack Obama. Americans that get up every morning, fight the cold drizzle to deliver the produce by 7 in the morning, or turn on the fryers, or unpack the night stock deliveries, or climb into the snow plows, know this instinctively. These people, like Obama and Jones, who are running our lives, have no connectivity to us whatsoever, and yet they piss and moan and stamp their feet when we’ve grown tired of financing their lives and their retirements.

Just once, I would love to hear some enterprising journalist stand up at yet another presser, where Obama is flanked by the likes of his latest Jones-like Jobs Czar, and say “Mr. President, you seem to know an awful lot about jobs. Can you tell me, Mr. President, how do you run a cash register? Can you tell me, Mr. President, what is the rate of fall for schedule 40 sewer pipe? How does a toilet work? I mean, you’re an expert at creating jobs, so I thought you, or your friend Mr. Jones could enlighten us.” The fact is, they know nothing of creating anything, let alone a job. Scour Van Jones resume for proof. All they know is how to suckle.

Yes, there will be a new American Dream Movement, Mr. Jones. And it will be fueled by people with real jobs, who are tired of financing the fake ones, like the Social Venture Network, or the Books Not Bars Campaign. And, if I were you, I think I’d stay clear of the State Capitals. Us Tea Partiers have maps, too.